Lord of Deception

The night air was thick with anticipation. Vortalis pulsed with unseen tension as torches flickered across the grand Imperial Plaza, where thousands gathered in the shadow of the Pillars of Faith. The Empress's decree had drawn them all—loyalists, skeptics, and most importantly, those who had begun to whisper the Prophet's name in reverence.

Kael stood on the marble balcony of the Imperial Palace, his golden eyes scanning the sea of faces below. His mind was already several moves ahead. Tonight would not be about violence or bloodshed—not yet. Tonight would be about perception.

The Prophet had built his power on an illusion, and Kael would make the people question that illusion before tearing it apart.

At the center of the Imperial Plaza, a golden platform stood illuminated by enchanted lanterns, casting an ethereal glow over the Empress Selene. She was clad in imperial black and crimson, her silver crown catching the light as she took her place before the gathered masses.

Her voice, sharp and commanding, echoed through the square.

"Loyal subjects of the Empire," she began, her gaze sweeping across them. "Tonight, I do not speak as Empress. I speak as a daughter of this Empire, as one of you."

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. The common people had long viewed the Imperial Family as distant gods, untouchable and unfeeling. But Selene was shattering that image.

"I have heard your concerns. I have heard the whispers of doubt," she continued. "The Prophet speaks of a world without tyranny, without chains. He preaches of liberation. And yet, I ask you this—who is he?"

Silence. The question lingered in the air.

"Who is this man that dares to claim he knows the will of the divine? Where was he when our fathers bled to defend this Empire? Where was he when the monsters at our borders sought to tear down our walls?"

A murmur of agreement rose from some corners. Others remained unconvinced.

And then—the first move of Kael's plan was played.

A hooded figure stepped forward from the shadows of the square, his movements careful yet deliberate. The crowd turned as he approached the platform, and the Imperial Guards made no move to stop him.

Kael allowed himself a small, knowing smirk. The Prophet had believed his following to be unbreakable, but faith is a fragile thing when confronted with fear and doubt.

The hooded man reached the base of the platform and removed his cloak. Gasps spread through the crowd.

It was Brother Edrin—one of the Prophet's closest disciples.

Selene's expression was unreadable, but Kael could see the calculation behind her eyes. The game had shifted.

Edrin fell to his knees before the Empress, his voice trembling.

"I have seen the truth," he declared. "The Prophet speaks of liberation, but he is no savior. He is no chosen one. He is a deceiver who seeks power through chaos!"

The crowd erupted—shocked voices clashing against one another. Some called him a liar, others demanded an explanation.

Edrin raised a trembling hand and revealed a leather-bound book, its pages covered in cryptic writings. Kael recognized it at once—a manifesto of the Prophet's true intentions, secured through weeks of espionage and manipulation.

"I was a fool to follow him," Edrin continued. "But now I see—he does not wish to save the people. He wishes to destroy the Empire itself."

Gasps and shouts filled the plaza. Doubt was spreading.

And doubt was deadlier than any sword.

From his vantage point, Kael watched the cracks begin to form.

The Prophet's power was built on unquestioning belief. His followers were zealots who thought themselves the righteous few, above the corruption of the Empire. But now? Now they were being forced to confront the possibility that they were pawns in another man's ambition.

Kael didn't need to kill the Prophet.

He just needed to make his own followers wonder if they had been deceived all along.

Selene turned to the crowd, her voice cutting through the chaos.

"I will not tell you what to believe," she said. "But I will tell you this—no ruler who seeks peace starts by dividing his own people."

That was enough.

The seed had been planted.

Kael turned from the balcony and disappeared into the shadows. His work for tonight was done.

The Prophet would feel the first true tremor of his downfall.

And soon, Kael would bury him completely.

To be continued.....